


you are the most beautiful piece of art i've ever seen

by kimwexler



Category: Bill & Ted (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Pining, museum, theyre trying to figure things out ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:54:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25081954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimwexler/pseuds/kimwexler
Summary: bill and ted go to the museum on a rainy day.
Relationships: Ted "Theodore" Logan & Bill S. Preston Esq., Ted "Theodore" Logan/Bill S. Preston Esq.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 162





	you are the most beautiful piece of art i've ever seen

From the haze of the sunlight peeking through the curtains, a slumbering Bill and Ted are awakened.

Stupidly, before the boys had crawled into bed the night before, Bill forgot to close the curtains, and now every inch of the eight AM sun covers the bedroom. Ted watches from across the queen-sized mattress, as Bill- who is most definitely not a morning person- realizes his dreaded mistake and covers his face with his arm with a groan. For a second, Ted considers being goofily cruel to his best friend, jerking him awake with the sunlight, howling a good morning tune. 

Instead, though, Ted just pads across the room, pulls the curtains closed, then returns to the bed, wondering if he can return back to sleep. Of course, he can’t, so he lies motionless, waiting for Bill to rouse.

Around eleven, Bill starts to stir, yawning and arching his back like a drowsy cat. It was a comforting image for Ted, as he had been accompanied by the same routine since they started sleeping over as kids. “G’Morning,” says Ted, already awake, and nursing a glass of juice. No coffee for Ted- made him too jittery. Bill had a fresh mug sitting next to him though- black, exactly how detectives and cowboys took coffee in old movies. “Made it for you, dude.” Ted then says, lifting his pointer at the cup. 

Bill smiled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Gee, thanks, dude,” He says, sounding almost surprised, although Ted had been serving him coffee in bed almost every morning after spending the night together. Ted smiles and nods in response, then turns back to reading the funnies in the back of the newspaper. He hoped that Mr. Preston had no interest in reading them because Ted took the rolled newspaper from the counter before Mr. Preston even had the chance to shuffle downstairs. Prestons… deep and late sleepers. All of them. 

The pair sits in silence, with the only sound from Ted occasionally giggling at the paper, and the sipping of their respective drinks, allowing Bill to fully wake up. After a couple minutes of nothing but the quiet, comfortable activity, Bill groans with a mighty stretch once again, then turns to Ted. “Agenda for today?”

Ted feels like a grown-up as he flips through the newspaper and lands on the weather section. “Bogus,” he murmurs, tilting the page to Bill. “Rain starts at noon.” 

Bill slouches against the headboard. “Absolutely heinous. No loitering for us.”

“Or skateboarding,” Ted adds. “But you suck at skateboarding though, so I guess it doesn’t matter that much.” He then grins at Bill, tilting his head in jest. 

“You suck,” Bill replies with a yawn. 

Ted returns to the newspaper, lazily browsing the classifieds, parroting to Bill his favorite ‘lost and founds,’ ‘help wanted,’ and ‘missed connection’ ads. Just as he’s about to relay an ad to Bill about a missing parrot (how do you lose a parrot?), he spots an even more interesting article on the adjacent page. “Hey!” Says Ted. “Free admission to the Los Angeles Museum of Art for all students until July 30th. We’re students!”  
Bill looks over the article from the rim of his Garfield coffee cup with a hum. “Why would we wanna go see some old dusty art in LA when we could just use the phone booth? See the art for real. Probably with the artists too.”

Ted considers this for a second. “Cuz it’s free.” Then, after a little more reading- “Oh! Dude! And we get free t-shirts! Look!” 

The shirts must have been about 50 cents to make, with simple black art on a cheap white t-shirt, but this sells Bill instantly. They’d be going to the art museum today. 

Not wanting to miss out, or have the museum run out of shirts, Bill fishes Missy’s keys out of her purse, and the two boys set off on their 30-minute drive to Los Angeles in her excellent red convertible. At first, Ted is nervous about borrowing Missy’s car without asking- especially since it was such a nice one at that- but Bill assures him that its completely fine, and that he did it all the time. Somethings are just allowed because you’re rich, Ted guesses. 

Their thirty-minute drive is stretched to an embarrassing hour and fifteen minutes, half because of Bill’s fresh driving skills, and half because Ted pleaded to take a scenic route, fumbling with pocket maps. Nonetheless, they have more fun they’ve had in a while, breaking their mundane routine of lounging and loitering. This was different. This was independence.

They’re rearing the end of a beat-up cassette of Dirty Deeds Run Cheap when they reach the art museum. It’s packed, with gaggles of young children being led by their mothers, and middle schoolers looking for cheap entertainment. After a few stressful and unsuccessful attempts, Bill parks Missy’s car, rolls the top-up for the coming rain, and the two head inside.

Just like the parking lot, the museum is nauseatingly busy, but neither of the boys seem to care. Neither of them were much complainers. It was free, and you can’t complain about free. 

They retrieve their shirts from the front desk, immediately making a bee-line to the bathroom to change, pulling off their flannels, wrapping them around their waists for safekeeping. “Now what?” Bill asks.

“I guess we just look around.” Says Ted with a shrug. "Come on!”

They come to realize that most of the attention lay within the new children‘s section, which outlined interactive experiences for kids and their parents. As wicked as that sounded, they figured they weren’t welcome to join in any kiddy art classes with a bunch of five-year-olds. Instead, they find themselves in the ancient Greece section, which is pleasingly empty, with only a few older folks milling around the pieces. 

For several minutes, the boys take time looking at countless painted clay pots, giggling to each other when any nudity was present within the art. “Look, dude,” Bill would say, crouching by a glass case, pointing at one of the ceramic pieces. “They’ve all got their dicks out.” And then they would both quietly snicker to each other, careful not to disrupt any of the other museum-goers.

However, when Ted turns the corner into the adjacent annex, he can’t help but gasp quietly to himself. It’s a room dedicated solely to Greek sculpture, with dozens of white stone people positioned around the room. But the one that caught Ted’s eye was the one placed on a pedestal in the middle of the room, towering at a staggering 15 or 20 feet. 

It’s spectacular… this enormous stone man standing so proudly. He’s strong, glossy and perfectly crafted, with his spine pressing through his back and muscles rippling down his arms, chest, and legs. Ted creeps forward, wanting to study every piece of the statue, and wishing he could reach out and graze the marble with his fingertips. This was something incredible. Something so amazing, so beautiful, it’s almost unbelievable it’s on this planet. 

Ted is in a trance by the 15-foot man in front of him, only realizing the other boy had entered the room when Bill let out an impressed, quiet laugh. “Hey dude, look! It’s me!” 

Reluctantly, Ted pulls his eyes from the statue, putting his focus on his friend. He then realizes, all at once, that it is Bill. 

Back and forth, back and forth, Ted zips his eyes between the art and Bill. It was uncanny- the way their arms were both toned and lined with veins, and how their noses were both curved into a slight hook. Most incredible of all was the matching set of curls both set on the top of their heads. This statue, which they came to learn was a depiction of the Greek god Apollo, was a carbon-copy of Bill, holding every single ounce of his boyish beauty. It was the most excellent thing they had discovered in a very long time, and they marveled at the similarities in wonder. 

Reluctantly, they leave Apollo and spend the rest of their trip wandering around the museum, trying to find an artistic doppelgänger for Ted, but the closest thing they could come to was a War-time cartoon of a happy-looking and shaggy dog. Bill thinks this fits Ted nicely. 

Unsurprisingly though, they later find themselves back to the enormous statue, perched upon the stone bench placed a few feet away from him, swinging their feet, and sharing a bag of chocolate-covered almonds that they definitely shouldn’t have brought in. While Bill happily munches on his snack, Ted stares straight ahead, still studying the art, and tries to figure out if he’s imagining the space between their hands is growing smaller. If their fingers were touching on purpose. 

They stay like this until closing, only abandoning their spot with their statue friend when the PA system announced that all guests should begin to exit the museum. 

While Bill dips into the bathroom to take a leak before the voyage home, Ted takes a turn for the museum gift shop to avoid awkwardly standing by the bathroom door. There, he’s surprised to meet the Bill Statue once again, this time situated into a smattering of gift shop trinkets like books and canvas tote bags. 

Ted wishes he can buy one of each item for Bill, but the two quarters in his pocket beg to differ. He instead settles for two postcards, one for each of them, then meets Bill in the lobby. “Are you sure you don’t want to say goodbye to him one more time?” Asks Bill with a smile, swinging the car keys around his index finger, obviously meaning the statue upstairs.

Ted nods, smiling back at Bill as they exit the lobby and into the crisp drizzle and setting sun. “We’ll be back soon, I bet. I have to take a picture of you two together. I’ll have to bring my Dad’s camera.” Then with a grin, as they climb into the car, he adds, “Or you could just look in the mirror for free.”

“Maybe I should start charging you to look at me,” Bill says with a huff.

“That’ll be the day.”

They ride home, not feeling a need to play any music, just talking and laughing the entire time. Without saying anything to Ted, Bill takes the long way home on purpose, knowing that Ted was dreading returning home. Bill had even offered to have him sleepover again that night, but that would make the fourth day in a row, and Ted thinks that may look a little bit gay to each of their respected Dads, as much as Ted would like to. Bill agrees with a shrug, continuing to make another wrong turn, which Ted can only guess which was deliberate. 

Eventually, Bill figures that he really has to return Ted home eventually, and starts making the right moves to get him to his house. The ride that usually took half an hour was creeping up to three, so there really wasn’t any other choice. Once again, didn’t want to look like anything they weren’t. 

The moon is high in the sky by the time Bill pulls up to Ted’s shanty little house. The light is still on in Captain Logan’s study, which wasn’t a great sign. “Are you sure you don’t want to sleep over?” Asks Bill, craning his neck to see if Ted’s dictator-like father’s silhouette was in view. 

“It’s okay, dude. Maybe tomorrow.” Says Ted, as he opens the passenger side door. He then realizes something. “Oh, wait! Got you something.” He digs in his backpack, pushing aside changes of clothes and his toothbrush for the small, flat paper bag. “For you!” He says as soon as he finds it, pulling out the postcard of Apollo and handing it to his friend. Bill takes it from him, and Ted wonders if he meant for their fingers to touch for that long.

“Hey, thanks, dude!” He says with a cock of his head and a smile. “It’s like looking into a mirror!” He then says, holding the postcard in front of him with a smoldering look like the statue. “See you tomorrow?”

“Call me when you wake up,” replies Ted, patting the side of the car as a goodbye with a thud.

Bill waits for Ted to safety get inside before speeding off in his stolen convertible to do only God knows what. For a second, Ted questions to himself if all friends did that when dropping off another dude, but he’s only interrupted by Captain Logan chastising him for his late return. 

It doesn’t last long though, as soon as he notices that Ted was at the museum, and although he was with that ‘Preston kid,’ an educational activity was better than sitting around at home. Captain Logan quickly questions Ted about the wartime section, then allows Ted to slouch off to his room.

Too tired to shower, Ted just strips down to his boxers, then crawls into bed. Just as he’s about to settle though, he realizes he’s forgotten something. He treads across the room to his backpack and finds the other postcard, still enclosed within the paper envelope. 

With a tack from the bottom of a Zeppelin poster, he hangs the small piece of cardstock on to the small space of wall by his bed. He wasn’t sure why he needed to do that, but he needed to before he could fall asleep. 

Ted flicks his bedside lamp off, leaving him in darkness, staring directly at the photo of the statue. Drifting off to sleep, he allows himself to glance over the marble body of this wondrous, beautiful piece of art. Wondrous, beautiful Bill.

Goodnight, Bill, Ted thinks to himself. You are the most beautiful piece of art I’ve ever seen.

**Author's Note:**

> i always thought bill looked like the michelangelo's david.... so this came to be.
> 
> follow me on twitter at @mostexceIIent! (the two Ls are Is cuz i'm sneaky)


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